


Speed Up Truth

by Zendelai



Series: Sharing Different Heartbeats [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Check your damn fuel Poe, Cold in a cave, First Kiss, Fluffy, Leia is not pleased, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zendelai/pseuds/Zendelai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe's been distracted since Finn's arrival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speed Up Truth

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on tumblr by hot-elf: "Finn/Poe in an icy cave, trying to get warm."
> 
> Title and series name taken from the song "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzalez.

When Poe flies, he becomes one with his ship. No longer is he surrounded by life, death, pain, joy; the galaxy and all its faults are nothing but a backdrop for his goal. He  _ is _ the ship, from hull to wing, blasters and all. Without that unity of man and machine, without his ability to block everything but his controls and his target, he would never have become the best pilot in the Resistance; he would be space dust, like the dozens of other failed pilots who had smoldered to death in the ships they never understood.

 

Ships are simple: they ask for your input, and nothing more. They’ll never defy orders, they’ll never surprise you, they’ll never ask you to give anything more than your time and understanding. Their lack of demands were why he loved them, and why a cockpit felt more like home than anywhere else. 

 

Well, that was how he used to feel, anyways. That was before a  _ certain someone _ stormed into his life with all the grace of a Bantha. That  _ certain someone _ was the exact opposite of everything that Poe appreciated about ships: he defied orders -- in fact, they never would have been in this situation had he not defied orders in the most blatant manner possible -- and he surprised Poe at every turn. To make matters worse -- or did it make them better? -- that  _ certain someone _ had been designated as Poe’s co-pilot in training, at least for now, and his proximity was messing with Poe’s focus and his unity with his ship. 

 

A pilot and a co-pilot had to work in as perfect harmony as a pilot and their ship did. Oh, sure, Poe and Finn worked great together, and their score on the Resistance’s training simulator far surpassed anyone else on the base. But with Finn around, Poe lost all focus: instead of sinking into the cloth of his seat, he could only feel a back so warm it radiated through their shared chair; instead of bringing up only the target in his mind’s eye, his thoughts turned to eyes that were dark yet bright and curious; instead of listening only to the cry of his ship, he recalled the sound of Finn’s laughter, even brighter than his smile, a sound that made Poe’s stomach coil hot with yearning.

 

Never in his life had he felt this way before. Sure, there had been trysts, even a few short relationships, but never had he felt the same focus he utilized in flying directed towards a singular person. Finn pulled him in like a tractor beam, and Poe was helpless to his force. 

 

He tried to hide it, because he’s damn scared and he knows it. He’s not rude to Finn, but for his own sake, he remains solitary, when he can. If Poe spends too much time near that man his well-built resilience will crumble, and the Resistance needs him at his best, not weakened by love.

 

_ Keep telling yourself that, Dameron. You’re avoiding Finn for the Resistance. Definitely has nothing to do with a crippling fear of rejection. Yeah, okay. _

 

“You ready, Dameron?”

 

“You know it.”  _ Hell no, I’m not.  _ “Are you ready, Finn?”

 

“As ever.”

 

With a flick of a switch, the engines rumbled to life beneath Poe. The feeling woke him and made him feel alive again; he breathed in the smells of metal and oil that he always associated with ships. 

 

But now, there was a new smell. The leather of his jacket, mixed with Finn’s slightly-metallic-but-a-tiny-bit-musky-and-oh-is-that-sandalwood smell. Finn was part of his X-wing now; Finn was part of  _ him _ . 

 

“Just a trial run,” Poe heard Finn murmur, feeling his voice resonate through the seat. “Just a quick patrol, no combat expected. It’ll be fine.”

 

“It will be,” Poe assured him. 

 

“You can hear me?” Finn’s voice rose at the end into a squeak, a sound that may have bothered some but made Poe smile. Probably because Finn sounded just a little embarrassed. 

 

“There are no secrets between a pilot and a co-pilot.” Look at him, lying again. Honesty had always been a point of pride to Poe, but, well, that was before he met a dashingly handsome ex-Stormtrooper. “You’ll be fine. Quick recon trip, we’ll be in and out in no time.”

 

“Right. Good.” Finn paused. “Poe?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How do I start the heat cycle for my blasters again?”

 

Poe chuckled. He wondered if Finn was always this flustered, or only around him. He hoped for the latter. “Blue switch up, green switch down.”

 

Finn let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

 

To keep Finn calm, Poe maintained a steady stream of conversation throughout the flight. Conversation had always come easy to him, but with Finn, it was positively effortless. It had been from the moment Finn pulled him out of that interrogation room. In spite of Finn’s colorful past, they shared the same beliefs and core values. Finn knew so little of the world, but he remained fully committed in his beliefs, a trait Poe deeply respected. 

 

Poe had been so invested in their conversation -- the morality of the use of clones and droids in war -- that he forgot to check his fuel gauge.

 

What a rookie mistake. See, this is what Finn did to him. 

 

It was only when the X-wing shuttered that he realized the gravity of his mistake.

 

[Poe! Fuel!]

 

“I hear you BB-8. Shit.” Poe tapped his fuel gauge, as if it would make the needle bounce back to full and apologize for scaring him. Woefully, it didn’t, pointing directly at the red instead. “Prep for emergency landing.”

 

“Emergency landing?” Finn’s voice cracked again. 

 

[Emergency landing routine executed.]

 

“Thanks BB-8.” Poe sighed. “We’re out of fuel, they must have forgot to top it up in pre-flights.”

 

It was Finn’s turn to sigh. “As long as it’s not Jakku we land on.”

 

With those few words, the weight of Poe’s mistake was eased: Finn didn’t blame him, and he made a joke out of the matter. His returning laugh was genuine, the kind of laugh that made his head spin. 

 

The planet they were approaching was uncharted, covered in a layer of snow with no water sources in sight. The sight of snow now always made Poe think of Starkiller base, and an unpleasant shiver racked his spine. 

 

[Deploying emergency signal to base. Deploying landing gears.]

 

With a thud and a rattle they landed; it was less graceful than Poe’s usual landings, but with the fuel restrictions, it was good enough. With a shudder of a final breath, the X-wing powered down, all fuel now spent.

 

“Well.” Poe lifted his helmet and placed it on his lap, turning to face Finn. Finn’s eyes were as wide as his lips, clearly not used to emergency landing on desolate planets. The look of surprise suited him, Poe thought. Then again, every look suited Finn. “Looks like we’ll be--”

 

[Message from base incoming.]

 

“Patch them through, BB-8.”

 

A holo of General Organa herself flashed into place; her arms were crossed and she was frowning. Bad start. “ _ Why _ have you emergency landed in the middle of nowhere, Pilot Dameron?”

 

“Out of fuel, General.”

 

Her tone dripping with displeasure, General Organa retorted, “And  _ why  _ did you not inspect your fuel levels before departure, Dameron?”

 

“I--” His unshakable confidence wavered, “Forgot,” he finished lamely.

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Forgot. The best pilot in the Resistance  _ forgot  _ to check his fuel levels.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, and her words were curt. “I’m sending a rescue op, Dameron, but they will be taking their time and you will be on sanitation duty for two weeks to make up for the cost of this op.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Her image flickered and faded. 

 

Finn’s voice rang from behind him. “Sanitation isn't so bad, you know.”

 

_ Neither is being stuck on this planet with only you for company.  _

 

Poe wished he didn’t have to be at war with himself anymore. There was the sensible part of him, the part that knew that the Resistance needed him at his best, the part of him that knew that Finn could very well have no interest in Poe, the part of him that was ashamed to even have these questions in the first place.

 

Then, of course, there was the not-so-sensible part of himself. The part that laid in bed dreaming of how Finn’s lips would taste, the part of him that slept with his own leather jacket for a week until the smell of Finn wore off, the part of him that didn’t give a damn what the Resistance thought because even in this fucked up galaxy, there were things more important than justice. 

 

_ Balls.  _

 

[Poe?]

 

He must have been caught up in his thoughts for too long. He cleared his throat and said, “This ship’s going to be a freezer soon. Grab that emergency kit behind you, Finn, and let’s find somewhere to camp. BB-8, forward all incoming transmissions directly to your unit and come with us.”

 

[Yes, Poe.]

 

“Sounds good, Poe.”

 

Hearing his name from the lips of Finn still sent a shiver down Poe’s spine. Closing his eyes to regain himself, he opened the X-wing’s door to receive a rush of frigid air. 

 

\--

 

It was cold.

 

_ Fucking  _ cold.

 

Colder than Finn could ever remember being, even during the First Order’s most stringent training exercises. Even Jakku was better than this; he had been so dehydrated that he had started to hallucinate, but at least he had been warm. The cold seeped through his coat, his co-pilot’s uniform, his skin, his muscles, even his bones. Luckily they had found a small cave near their landing site, and Poe had skillfully set up a fire with flint and whatever tinder he could find. Even though Finn was huddled before it, he couldn’t stop shivering.

 

Damn this planet. Damn that ship. Damn Poe.

 

Ah, who was he kidding. He couldn’t curse Poe, he was too damn likeable. He oozed charm in a way that Finn had never encountered before, and as a result, every conversation with Poe turned Finn into a blithering idiot. 

 

_ Yeah. It’s just the charm that turns you into a blithering idiot. It has absolutely nothing to do with those dashingly good lucks, the slightly crooked smile that’s as bright as Jakku’s sun, and how damn good he smells.  _

 

A shiver racked his spine from his head to his tailbone, and he inched even closer to the fire, now so close he could be ignited by a stray spark at any given moment. 

 

“You cold or something?” Poe asked, one corner of his mouth lifting teasingly. 

 

“M-me? Nah. I’m t-t-toasty.”

 

Poe let out a low chuckle, a pleasant sound that settled right below Finn’s belt line. It was a response that he was becoming familiar with when it came to Poe. 

 

“Here.” Poe pulled a pot off the fire, ladled a bowl of soup out of it, and passed it to Finn. “This will taste like shit, but at least it’s warm.”

 

Finn nodded in thanks and raised the bowl to his lips. Poe was right about one thing: it was hot as hell, singeing his lips and tongue on the way down. Once it had cooled, Finn realized it didn’t taste like shit, not at all; considering that it was made from dried rations, its quality far surpassed anything he had eaten under the First Order. Poe had to be a skilled cook.

 

Just another quality of Poe’s to add to an already long list. 

 

Poe quickly drank down his soup, plopping the plate beside the powered down BB-8 with a contented sigh. Poe gazed at the ground thoughtfully, his mind clearly far from the cave that they were trapped in. Finn took a moment to soak in his pilot: his dark, wavy hair, flattened by the helmet that lay at his feet; his dark eyes, glittering in the firelight; his well-defined jaw and sharp cheekbones. 

 

Finn had little experience in relationships; the First Order didn’t exactly condone fraternization. There were feelings that hadn’t been written out in conditioning, but he had seen the lash marks along the backs of those who tried to act on them. 

 

So at that moment, Finn gazed upon Poe and considered the realization that he was very handsome, and  _ dammit _ , he was developing feelings for him.

 

As if things hadn’t been confusing enough meeting Rey and being immediately drawn to her strength and will, before he discovered his feelings were more protective and brotherly than romantic. 

 

Shortly after, Finn had been struck down by Kylo Ren, and he woke with not Rey by his side, but Poe.

 

_ I remember him so clearly. _

 

_ He looked so worried. His brow was furrowed, and my first thought on seeing his face was that I wanted to smooth away the line between his brows. _

 

_ “You okay there, boss?” He had attempted a light tone, but his voice was low, heavy. I could read him like a book; he wore his heart on his sleeve. _

 

_ “Yeah,” I had whispered. “I’m glad you’re here,” had slipped out, too, but I later blamed it on the meds.  _

 

And here they were again, the tiny cave reminiscent of the feelings that trapped them.

 

“Still cold?” Poe whispered the question, even though there was no one else on the whole damn planet. 

 

Finn shrugged. Should he play it tough, pretend he’s fine? 

 

...

 

Nah. 

 

“Yeah, a bit.” He attempted a nonchalant shrug, but the motion was oddly jerky. He felt like a gangly teenager again. 

 

With a wry smile Poe stood and lowered himself onto the log beside Finn, pressing their shoulders together. Even through their thick coats, Finn’s skin burned where their bodies connected. 

 

“So.” Poe spoke softly again. It made the moment feel even more private than it already was. “How have you been, Finn? Really?”

 

Finn licked his lips, contemplating his response. “Better than I’ve ever been,” he replied earnestly. “I went from being a cog in a destructive machine to really making a difference. I went…” He paused. He trusted Poe, but it still felt odd so fully exposing himself when for years he had been treated like a droid, void of emotion, instead of a human. “I went from a place where even my squadmates hated me and I was nothing more to a number, to becoming  _ Finn _ , a Resistance soldier fighting the Dark Side. It’s… dizzying. But I never regret it, not for a moment.”

 

“The Resistance has good people.” Poe flashed his teeth at Finn in a broad smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

 

It was Finn’s turn to whisper. “Me neither.” He wasn’t just thinking of the Resistance; he realized that there was nowhere else that he’d rather be than stuck in an arctic cave with a tiny fire, a few rations, and Poe Dameron than anywhere else with anyone else. 

 

Finn’s gaze flickered to Poe’s lips; the skin was slightly worn from Poe chewing on it, an unexpected habit from such a composed man. With a corresponding jolt from his stomach Finn realized that he wanted to kiss Poe, quite badly, but if he was being entirely honest with himself he had no idea  _ how _ , and if Poe would even be remotely interested or if he was just too charming for his own good. 

 

Poe didn’t look away; sucking his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes darted between Finn’s features: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his eyes, his lips again. 

 

“I’m glad you’re here, Finn.” Poe was getting closer; Finn’s heart was hammering in his chest and all the air in his lungs had been sucked out like a vacuum. His mouth was dry as bone, but he managed to choke out, “I’m glad  _ you’re  _ here, Poe,” before forcing the last vestiges of saliva down his parched throat. 

 

His lower lip never leaving its spot between his teeth, Poe very slowly lifted his hand to press his fingertips to Finn’s cheek. Although his fingers were as cold as the air surrounding them, they burned Finn’s skin and he gasped. The moment the gasp escaped his lips, Poe’s hand dropped. 

 

“Sorry,” Poe muttered, swiftly averting Finn’s gaze, a warm flush rising in his cheeks. 

 

“Don’t be.” Finn grasped Poe’s hand between his, and when their eyes met again, Poe’s were filled with restrained hope. “I… you’re… very handsome, Poe.”

 

Finn didn’t know it was possible, but Poe’s cheeks flamed even more red. Blood rose in his own cheeks at the feel of Poe’s fingers wriggling beneath his. “You’re not so bad yourself, Finn.”

 

Taking in a deep, reassuring breath, Finn continued, “I like you, Poe. And I think… I would like to kiss you, but I…” In the face of his confession, his courage faltered. 

 

“Finn?” Poe’s voice was hoarse and his chest rapidly rose and fell.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can I kiss  _ you _ ?”

 

Finn paused, startled, before slowly nodding.

 

“Let me take the lead.” 

 

Poe began to lean closer to Finn; Finn responded in kind. Poe closed his eyes, and so did Finn. Finn’s palms were sweating, and he could hear the rush of blood pounding in his ears. 

 

Poe’s lips brushed against Finn’s, and nothing else mattered. He forgot who he was, or why he was in this cave; no longer was he cold, or scared. All there was in his world was  _ Poe _ , this magnificent and skilled pilot who somehow was kissing him, Finn, a deserter Stormtrooper. Poe’s lips were hot, wet, and just a little jagged; Finn tried to just move with him, molding his lips beneath Poe’s. His hands were on Finn’s waist, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies flush. Finn let out a sigh of a moan into Poe’s lips and in response Poe pressed against him, harder,  _ hungry _ . Finn didn’t know exactly what it was that he wanted Poe to do to him at that moment, but he wanted it, and he wanted it badly, and every nerve in his body was screaming for more, more of  _ Poe _ . 

 

Poe pressed kisses so gentle they were barely a brush of lips against skin along Finn’s cheek, his jaw, his neck, oh his  _ neck (that felt incredible) _ , his collarbone, and back up again. Gentle hands ran up and down his sides and back. Finn’s body had become an electric charge, waiting to focus on the next spot Poe’s lips and hands found. 

 

“Poe…”

 

From the corner of his eye, Finn could see BB-8 lighting up before it began to roll its head side-to-side, letting out an urgent series of beeps and whistles.

 

He would have to figure out how the hell to understand that droid one day.

 

Whatever BB-8 was saying, it seemed to agitate the infallible Poe; he covered his face with his hand and sighed. When he pulled his hand away, Finn noticed that his entire face and neck were flushed with pleasure. 

 

“The rescue op is breaking atmo. We need to go back to the ship.”

 

Finn blurted out, “Seriously? Now?”

 

Poe laughed, scrubbing his face with his hand. Finn crossed his legs and tried to focus his thoughts on the cold around him when he realized how strong of a physical reaction that he was having. “I know, I know. General’s going to have my hide as it is, she’ll flay me alive if I make the rescue crew wait.”

 

“I know.” Finn rested his hand on Poe’s cheek -- it was so pleasantly warm beneath his palm -- before pressing a quick and bold kiss to Poe’s lips. When he pulled away, Poe was smiling with his eyes closed, looking happier than Finn had ever seen him (and, considering Poe’s almost constant sunny disposition, he was surprised Poe even  _ could  _ look happier). 

 

“Let’s… talk about this… back at base?” Poe asked, rubbing the back of his neck, looking as worked up as Finn felt. 

 

“Yes.” Finn cleared his throat. “Talking. More talking. Talking is good.” 

 

Together they stood, quickly extinguishing the fire and collecting the last of their things in silence. 

 

Before they exited, Poe stopped him with an arm, looking up to meet Finn’s eyes once more. Earnestly he said, “Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

Through a smile, Poe gnawed on his lip. “For waking me up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks goes to saint-leona for looking over this for me!


End file.
